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Unexpected Civility in Blue L.a.


I went yesterday to my local superchain bookstore to buy Party of Death. I rehearsed rhetorical feint-and-jab combos on the way, expecting to have to harangue some assistant manager into keeping the book on display instead of buried in the storeroom somewhere. I was a bit disappointed, I must admit, to find it right up front on the “New Non-Fiction” table, next to all the Bush-basher books and the stunning array of DaVinci Code spinoffs. I had a last-ditch hope for a sneer from the checkout clerk, but all he did was offer extra savings by signing up for a superchain bookstore frequent buyer super credit card — a consumer culture trend which needs to stop, by the way. I am not now, nor will I ever be, a Ralph’s Club member.

So I got out of there with my book (which is terrific so far) and without a fight. Now if I’d tried to light a cigarette outside the store, that would be a different story


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